


spinning webs

by that_case



Series: 6 Characters [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: 6 Characters, Alcohol, Breakfast, Depression, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Genderfluid Character, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Characters, Nonbinary Character, Other, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Smoking, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 01:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15719226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_case/pseuds/that_case
Summary: “Still, you shouldn’t do that,” A voice chirped from beside him, and Warren sighed. “It’s not good for you.”“Yeah,” Warren sighed, running the hand not holding a half-burned cigarette through his nearly-white blond hair. “You’re not wrong…” Silvery grey eyes met golden-brown, and another sigh passed through cracked, chapped lips. “You get on me about this a lot,” Warren looked up to Jordan again, soft auburn curls covering those shining eyes. “Did you know that?”“Oh,” A hand reached up to push the curls back, but they fell down again as Jordan’s eyes met the ground. “I’m sorry. I just care about you a lot.”"I know."





	1. trouble

**Author's Note:**

> here's some OCs and a little something i *spun* up ;3c

_Burden. Waste of space. Useless. Worthless. Unnecessary- unneeded._  The thoughts crammed into his head as he tried desperately to push them out, loud music and other sounds filling the physical space around him. Even then, the noise was useless to penetrate the words echoing in his mind.  _Boring, annoying, and a nuisance._

"Why even try?" Warren mumbled to himself, sighing and running a hand through his hair. He pondered his next move for a moment, before heaving himself from the couch. He glanced at the clock, chuckling sadly under his breath at how long he'd just been... sitting there. The blond pulled a jacket from a hook near the front door of his apartment before heading back towards the living room. He moved to the deck of his apartment building, and pulled a small package out of his pocket.  _Shit. There's only a few left. Guess I'll have to get some more tomorrow._  He pulled a cigarette from the box, closed it and returned it to its home in his jacket. The lighter was there too, which came out next for a short second, then was placed gently back in the pocket.

_Nearly 450,000 people die from smoking every year_ , a taunting voice quipped in his head. Leaning against the railing, Warren looked out over the city. Cars were driving past on the streets below, people walking leisurely, some with others, and some by their lonesome. The blond laughed quietly at his own loneliness, before another voice chimed in.  _You're never going to find anyone, especially with this bad habit of yours._ A third decided to pipe up,  _You'll probably end up being alone forever. Even if you quit smoking, who'd want you?_

A long drag stopped the words for a moment, as a dull pain settled in his lungs. He knew it wasn't good. He knew it'd kill him, eventually.  _Maybe that'd be for the best,_  this time the voice was his own. The realization shocked him, but not nearly as much as it should've.  _I mean,_  He tried to reason with himself,  _maybe I don't really believe that. But all these voices, all these thoughts... It gets to me._  He decided to take another pull from the cigarette, closing his eyes and imagining taking all the bad thoughts floating around his mind and releasing them as he breathed out a steady stream of smoke.

_Dangerous. You could hurt someone if they were with you. You should stop. I know that. I'm trying to get better, but it's hard. You're just a burden to those around you. I'm trying my best, okay? What else can I do? Let them go, you're just creating problems anyways._  A battle raged in his head, and he decided he'd had enough of smoking for now. He crushed the cigarette in an ashtray near the door and went back inside. The jacket that previously was hung by the door was haphazardly tossed over the back of a chair at the table, and Warren turned towards the cabinets.

He didn't want to, but he guessed it'd block out the noise for now. A tall glass from the third shelf, a bottle from a cabinet above the sink, and a cold cola from the fridge. The measurements certainly weren't proper, but the taste didn't matter. Getting to the end was all that mattered. The drink burned his throat, both from the alcohol and the carbonation. He coughed for a moment, bracing himself against the counter.

_You know you can't take your medication if you drink, now, right?_  Warren sighed and pushed his hair out of his face, tugging it gently. "Could you just leave me be?" He groaned aloud, closing his eyes against the headache coming on. Against his own will, he took a longer swig than he intended, and coughed at the burn in his throat. He deserved it, he supposed, but it would be worth it if it got him drunk quicker. Despite the residual pain lingering, he drank more, and shortly made himself another drink.

     ---

It didn't take long before the alcohol brought its effects, and Warren certainly was feeling them. He felt lethargic, and for a moment considered the peaceful quietness of his home, the only noise he could hear was the air conditioner outside, and his fan running down the hall in his room. Even then, he should have known better than assuming it was safe.  _You need to stop doing this. Drinking won't solve your problems. You know this worries your friends, right? If they even consider you a friend..._  The thought had occurred before, and it wasn't one he much enjoyed entertaining.

_They_ are _my friends. They care about me. They also worry about you, Warren. They worry that you'll do something stupid, make a bad decision. You don't want your friends to worry, do you? That's not a very nice thing to do to your friends, make them worry and concerned. Don't you think they'd rather be relaxed and at ease, without you?_

As much as his logic wanted to argue, his sensibility had gone out the window just like the last breath of smoke before he came inside. With all the drinks, he was pure emotion, and the thoughts were getting to him. He wanted to fight, but the voices were right. He couldn't just keep going on like this, hurting his friends.  _You just push them away, anyways. You don't talk to them except about your problems. No one wants a whiner. No one likes listening to the same boring, annoying complaints every day. You're just a nuisance to them. You're just a burden._

Glancing over to the coffee table, the outline of the glass containing his drink blurred and swam around. A warm drip landed on his bare forearm, and he glanced down to notice a growing dark spot near the collar of his t-shirt. Hot, salty tears streaked down his face, and he reached a hand up to brush them away. "t-They care about me," He tried, voice weak and broken, cracking from emotion and from the roughness brought on by his drinking. "They want what's best for me," He was interrupted by another voice.  _But do you ever think about what's best for them? Maybe they all just pity you, and want to make sure you don't make a dumb mistake. They probably just keep you around because of how clingy you are. They couldn't get away if they wanted to._

Warren was aware of his deep attachment to his friends, despite some relationships in being strained. "I'm trying my best," He argued, voice twinging with slight frustration.  _Maybe your best isn't good enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to follow the perspective of two characters who are part of a larger universe (referenced as '6 Characters'). You'll see more of them soon, hopefully :)  
> let me know if there's any errors as this is un-beta'd, as well as any tags you may want me to add! feel free to comment and tell me what you think!


	2. never meant to do you harm

A shaky hand weakly grasped a pen, scrawling messily on a piece of paper torn haphazardly out of a notebook from a desk. A large glass, nearly empty, sat nearby. A dim lamp was on across the room, giving a gentle amber glow to the space. Warren sat, quivering in his seat at his desk, crying silently. Teardrops fell and sunk into the paper, causing a few small tears in the page every now and then. Some landed on the desk, causing his bare forearm to become wet from the salty droplets. The thoughts had seemed to subside as he continued on in his evening, drinking a glass or two more of his mixed drink, the taste seeming to numb him.  _Maybe there's too much whiskey in there,_  He laughed dejectedly, a few more tears streaming down his face and dripping onto the desk.

He knew he could get heavy handed with his beverages, but especially more so on nights like these. They weren't common, but for some reason had been occurring more and more.  _Probably due to the fact that you_ _haven't_ _been taking your medication..._  A small sigh left him, pen lifting from the paper and resting gently beside it. "'S not  _my_  fault, y'know? 'S not like I  _want_  to not take it, I  _ran out_." His voice sounded slower, and more groggy than he'd hoped it would.  _Damn. Maybe I did get a bit too heavy handed on the booze_.

A short buzz pulled him away from the argument beginning to materialize in his head, and he glanced over towards his bed. A dim light shone from where his phone was, face-down on the bedside table. He looked towards the desk, and the scribbly writing, before standing on shaky legs and carefully making his way across the room.

_[One new message: Jordan]_

"Jordan," He sighed, smiling faintly. "Wha's Jordan up to?" He drawled, blinking hard against the bright light of the screen. He turned it down, blinking a few times to adjust to the difference.

_['Hey Warren! I just got out of my night class, was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight?']_

Warren looked at the time on the top of the screen, the numbers reading 9:33pm. He took a moment to focus on the keyboard, fingers hovering over the screen.

_['why's your nigjtclasd ony grt out noe ? shoudlnt youvhabe bern okt for awhile?? doejsnt itngey out at ritht?']_

The message was intended to read 'why'd your nightclass only get out now? Shouldn't you have been out for a while?? doesn't it get out at eight?'. Warren stared long at the screen, debating responding at all due to his inability to type at the moment.

_['War? You there? You've been typing for a minute or two now...']_

The blond looked at his phone before deciding,  _fuck it_ , and sent the message, terribly written and full of typos as it was. He locked his phone and put it in his pocket, standing feebly and fumbling back towards his desk. Another glance at the paper there had his emotions returning and the tears he'd managed to restrain in the pause from writing welled back up immediately.  _Damnit. Why do I have to be such a burden? Why can't I just be alone? I don't want people to care for me!_  "I don't want people to worry! I just want to disappear," He hadn't realized he was talking out loud until he heard his own voice crack, which wouldn't happen in his thoughts.

A choked sob escaped his lips, and he collapsed over his desk, crying into his arms.  _Why does it have to hurt so much? Why can't I just be better?_  He took a quick glimpse of his surroundings, and noticed the large, tall glass. A surge of anger rose up in him, and he took the glass quickly in hand. Rearing back, he dumped most of the contents onto the floor behind him, but the object was placed gently back on the desk, a heavy sigh escaping the lips which were previously drawn in a tight, frustrated line. He sniffled a few times, strangling the sobs trying to escape his throat. _Can't even break a fucking glass. Can only make a giant mess._

A slow, clumsy walk towards the kitchen proved much more difficult than originally intended, and it took him much longer than he'd have liked to return with paper towels in hand.  _Stupid carpet floors, stupid drunk actions, stupid feelings, stupid me_ , the list continued, a irritated growl coming from his throat, a loud hiccup being placed intermittently between the noise and occasional voiced curse word.

He knew that the cleaning would not be done well enough now, especially in his intoxicated state, so he decided enough was enough and placed the remaining paper towels over the mess, knowing full well he'd have a hell of a time cleaning it tomorrow.  _I can't do damn near anything now, not like this. Tomorrow-me's going to hate now-me, but fuck it. Doesn't he already?_  A self-deprecating laugh, much louder than expected, ripped itself suddenly from his mouth. The sound startled him, and caused more laughter.  _I am honestly such a Goddamn burden to myself, I really wonder how much of a fuckin' nuisance I am to all the people I talk to? Shit, I don't even know if I can call them friends. I bet they all hate me,..._

The thoughts continued, and Warren found himself laughing and crying at the same time as he crouched on the floor next to his bed. He finally fell over, laying on the rough floor, shaking.  _Is this a panic attack? A mental breakdown? A fit? What the hell is my problem?_

 _Yeah, pull yourself together. You're just a damn mess, now. No one wants to have to deal with someone who just cries all the time._  It was less pleasing now that the voices had managed to butt their way in, circling his thoughts and constricting him until the negativity was all he could hear. The feelings that began to creep up overtook him, and he rushed to pull himself up and scurry to the bathroom. He nearly cracked his skull against the doorframe trying to get in, and collapsed by the toilet. It didn't take long for the contents of his stomach, most of which was alcohol, to spill into the bowl.

 _What a waste. All that expensive liquor down the drain, quite literally._  Warren had certainly had enough, but he couldn't bring himself to push the thoughts away. He leaned his cheek against the door of the shower, relishing in the coolness against his seemingly-burning skin. He couldn't tell what the cause was, but it was probably because he'd just thrown up. Another short buzz pulled his attention back to reality, and he stood on legs even shakier than before to wash his hands at the sink and swish some water around in his mouth. The taste of bile was absolutely revolting, but he supposed that was the point.

_[Five new messages: Jordan]_

Worry creeped up his spine, but his brain seemed to dull the feeling, and Warren had a general feeling of disgust in himself and shame for neglecting responding to his friend.

_['Speeches today, so it took longer. Warren, are you alright?'_

_'Warren, are you okay?'_

_'You've been drinking again, haven't you? Don't you know you shouldn't do that unless someone else is there to watch you?']_

That message in particular stuck to Warren, and he felt anger rising up, tension growing in his shoulders.  _I'm plenty capable of controlling myself and being responsible!_  A glance at the toilet seemed to tell him otherwise, though. He flipped down the lid and flushed, washing his hands again. He then read the remaining messages.

_['Warren, please, I'm worried about you.']_

_'I'm coming over.']_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if there's any errors as this is un-beta'd, as well as any tags you may want me to add! feel free to comment and tell me what you think!


	3. caught in the middle

_['Warren, please, I'm worried about you.'_

_'I'm coming over.']_

Warren jolted, blinking at the screen.

_['no, odnmt come o ver i' m fine']_

There was no immediate response, so the blond set his phone down and took a moment to observe himself in the mirror. Dark, heavy bags were settled under his eyes, which were red from crying and being rubbed roughly. His grey irises shone, glimmering with the hint of unfallen tears. Nearly-white blond hair settled near his jaw, where a trace of stubble was beginning to show. The ends were knotted together, having been pulled and yanked and hands run through all night long.

Warren glanced about the bathroom counter, gaze catching on a hair tie. He grabbed the elastic and quickly tied his hair up at the top of his head, small pieces sticking out at random. Another glance at his reflection showed he still didn't look nearly close enough to 'fine' as he'd said in his text, but he knew there wasn't much else he could do. Carefully, he made his way back towards his bedroom, tidying up the paper and pen on his desk and gently taking the glass in hand. He walked slowly to the kitchen, placing the glass in the sink as he heard a noise from down the hall. He made his way to the bathroom again, glancing down to see his phone's screen still lit up.

_[Two new messages: Jordan]_

_['Bullshit.'_

_'I'll be at your place in five minutes.']_

_['no pelase im fine you dont have t o come']_

_['Like hell you're fine.']_

Warren couldn't argue it, and he sighed, trying to run his hands through his hair and mussing the already messy ponytail he'd pulled up.  _I know I'm not fine, but I don't want this. I can't deal with this right now. I have to be alone._  Without a second thought, the blond walked to his door and clicked the lock, then went about the apartment and shut the blinds, as well as turning off any remaining lights or electronics. The stereo was still running, and had stopped playing due to the playlist running out of songs.  _I wonder how many I missed_ , Warren pondered for a moment as he clicked it off.

He returned to his room, phone in his pocket, and chanced a glimpse at his desk, still seeing the paper and pen there. The anger that had arisen earlier had since subsided, and he looked dejectedly at the ruined sheet on the desk. He tried to read it over, but the words were so horribly scrawled; the tear stains and rips in the page didn't help in deciphering what was written there. He knew what he'd wanted to say, though, the thoughts swimming in his head. He took a look at the first few words, and the general idea of what he'd intended to write came back, slowly, and in pieces. He thought it out, and it read something like...

_"I'm sorry. I know this is sudden, but I want you to know that I'm okay. I know I make dumb decisions sometimes, that I'm not the brightest or smartest all the time, but I promise that I'm okay. What's not okay is how much of a burden I am--to you, anyone around you, and everyone I know. I want to apologize._

_I'm sorry. I know that I'm troublesome, and cause worry in near everyone I meet. I know that all I do is complain and whine, I know. I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this, but I've had enough. Again, I'm going to say that I may not be sober, but I am not going to do anything brash. I'm disappearing. I'm going away. I don't want to go, and I love you all so much, but I've had enough. I've fought it for so long, and I've made my choice. I'm going away. I'm not coming back._

_I'm tired of feeling like a burden. I know this is going to hurt-believe me, it's killing me. I hope that this makes things better. What a useless endeavor if it didn't, huh? Just like everything else I do...  I'm tired of feeling like I can't trust anyone. I should be proud, and strong, but I'm weak. I'm lonely and sad and afraid. I'm afraid of being abandoned. I know it's shitty, I know it's not the right thing to do, but it's what I've decided I'm going to do._

_I've been told that I deserve everything I've worked for, and everything I've been given. That I deserve nothing but the best in everything I do, deserve nothing but the best in_ general _, but I'm not sure I can believe it. I know that everyone makes mistakes, but I feel like mine are constantly being pushed aside, like it's never a big deal. I guess I took it upon myself to criticize my actions._

_I'm sorry. I'm rambling._

_I'm leaving. I don't know when, or if this will reach you before. But I've made up my mind. I have to leave everyone, because I know it will be for the best in the end. No one wants extra bags to carry around that are filled with useless junk. Well, that's why I'm going. I'm just a weight pulling all my friends, if they even consider me a friend rather than some sad-sack they pity, and I don't want to be that anymore. I'd rather pull myself down than drown those around me who try to save me._

_I know there must be a better way, or a solution. I'm tired of looking. I'm tired of thinking. I hope you all have lovely, wonderful lives without me. I'm sure they'll be brighter without this dark cloud hanging over you all the time, haha..._

_I love you._

_Goodbye._

_-W. Stone"_

Admittedly, it wasn't a great explanation, but he was never the greatest with words. His foul, depressed mood wasn't helping him either, nor was the unnecessary booze in his system. Certainly, he'd have a rough time the next morning, likely a headache and some body pain.  _I deserve it, though,_  He chided himself, laughing in a self deprecating tone.  _I deserve every shortcoming that comes my way. I've been dealt my cards, and now it's time to show my hand and reveal what a useless, unworthy sack of--_  His voice was cut off by an odd sensation in his leg.  _Am I_ really _that drunk? Am I passing out? What is this??_

It took a moment to realize, but his phone was ringing. He pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen.

_[3 New Messages: Jordan]_

_['Warren, I'm here.'_

_'Let me in.'_

_'Warren, please, I swear to God, please answer me.']_

There was also a new missed call. His finger hovered over the option to call back, but he stopped himself.  _No. I'm done, right? I'm cutting myself out of the equation._  He affirmed his answer to himself with a short head-nod before flopping back onto his bed. The soft, cool sheets welcomed him gently, pulling him in closer. He escaped their tempting clutches, and quickly removed his clothes, sparing himself no time to look in a mirror and add self-loathing on top of the already mixed bag of negative emotions that was his head. He buried himself under the covers, and was out before he could imagine what he'd dream of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the conversation about deserving the best [in everything [i] do] was actually said to me by a friend while i was writing this chapter ;w;'  
> let me know if there's any errors as this is un-beta'd, as well as any tags you may want me to add! feel free to comment and tell me what you think!


	4. spun a web

_Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz..._

Aside from the quiet noise coming from the speakers of his phone and the vibrations, the apartment was silent. The quiet was pierced by a loud, annoyed groan as a weak arm struggled to find the source of the sounds that were causing sharp spikes of pain to strike through a hungover head. Once the device was in-hand, Warren braced himself for the light of the screen and squinted against the brightness.  _I really should invert the colors on this thing when I drink so it's not so hard in the mornings..._  The thought was dismissed quickly as more pertinent matters flooded through his head, like getting some  _damn_  painkillers.

"Fuck."

The pain struck him so hard it almost made him want to throw up, but he'd already done that last night, and he wasn't really in the mood to dry-heave. With shaking legs and unsteady steps Warren made his way carefully to the bathroom and began rummaging through the cabinets for a bottle of Advil. Once in hand, he got a cup of water and downed two or three pills, taking a moment to steady himself against the counter before drinking a second glass of water. Slowly, he moved back to the bedroom, glancing at the pile of paper towels on the floor, displeased.

He took a second to breathe, calming the ringing pain in his head, then settled down into the covers of his bed. Despite the blinds being closed, a quick look at the window told him it was early/mid-morning, the sun pushing hard against the dark curtains blocking out the light. It was taking everything in him to not look at his phone, but he knew he would have to face his demons eventually. He could brace himself for the brightness of his screen, but he couldn't even come close to being prepared for what he faced in his notifications.

_[14 New Messages: Jordan]_

_[5 Missed Calls: Jordan]_

_[2 New Messages: Ali]_

_[1 New Message: Marty]_

_[4 New Messages: Cindy]_

_[1 Missed Call: Cindy]_

_[3 New Voicemails]_

Kyrn was unusually silent, missing from the barrage of notifications he'd received.

Among the many,  _many_  missed calls and texts, there was the usual game notifications and other apps reminding him to drink water, walk around, or giving him a small reminder to take some time and meditate. He never really listened to those apps, but he liked having them to remind himself that,  _hey, at least I'm trying to manage my depression and anxiety, right?_

Unwelcome tears flooded his vision and blurred the screen.

"Fuck," He sighed, running a hand aggressively through his hair, the loose ponytail falling off during his sleep. The urge to pull and yank on the hair as an outlet for his inner frustrations was overwhelming, but the crushing wave of sadness that crashed into him overpowered the anger. He dropped the phone against the comforter, knowing he would need a minute to calm down and stop himself from breaking down.  _Why are there so many? Jordan must've told Ali, and everyone else heard from there. God, why am I so stupid? Why am I like this?_

Regardless of his attempt to level his breathing, the invading negative thoughts caught him off guard and his breath caught in his throat, choking out a sob.  _They must be so worried, I can't believe I let them down, let_ Jordan _down. I'd been so good for so long, where did everything go wrong? You were where it went wrong, Warren,_  the voices interrupted.  _All you do is make mistakes, don't you know that? You've never been good enough, and you'll never do anything right. You should just accept that before you ruin anyone else's lives._

The urge to suddenly make some bad decisions coursed through him, but he decided against the more violent thoughts. No cutting, no more drinking, and he knew from last night that most of his cigarettes were gone. The negative voices swirling around in his head weren't helping his choice, though; they tempted him, pushed him to change his mind, to make a mistake. He glanced down at the phone he'd left on the blankets, blinking at it for a moment. Should he..? Should I... call?

The ring tone was painfully slow, each ringing tone twisted Warren's heart more than he'd expected it to. Part of him wondered if Jordan would pick up. The rest of him was worried ( _fearful_ , almost) that they wouldn't. Seems that the world would only work in ways against him, as Jordan's chipper voice introduced themself and said they were unable to answer the phone now, but to call back. An automated, robotic woman rattled off a few instructions as to how to leave a message, and there was a beep.

One.

Two.

Three beats of silence filled the air as Warren thought what he would do.

' _I miss you_ '

It came out pained, strained against vocal cords rubbed raw from a night of heavy drinking, crying, yelling, and throwing up. Shaky hands made it difficult to hold the phone up to his ear. There's another pause, but no response. Of course, he mused to himself resentfully,  _voicemail doesn't talk back_. He deleted the message, leaving Jordan with only a missed call-- better to not worry them, Warren supposed.

He was lonely. It only made sense, considering his self-imposed solitude. He didn't  _mean_  to isolate himself (an occurrence far more common for him than it should be), but things like this come with the demons he had to harbor.

It was a bitter emptiness that left him cold, inside and out. It warped his perception, forcing himself to stay at arm's length, distanced from those who loved him. It was a heavy pressure over his shoulders, weighing him down, bringing a dark, looming cloud over his head while a thick fog muddled his thoughts. It spun a web around him, trapped away from the world and left him waiting for the imminent doom that was to come; hinting that it was going to happen, but never letting him see just  _when_.

Despite his recognition of his own isolation, he felt bitter, but forlorn.  _My bad habit of hiding like this_ _won't do me any good if I want to keep my friends... I have to pull myself together, at least for today, at least for now_. All it took was a short peek at the array of worried texts, missed calls, and voicemails to tip him back into a fit of tears, broken sobs heaving from the depths of his chest as his fractured mind and shattered heart tried to piece him back together.

Choppy, stuttered gasps for breath punctuated the silences between his cries.

 _How funny, that despite having so many people who love you, you'll ultimately end up alone_ , a biting voice chipped in.  _What do they even mean to you if you can't let them in? Your seclusion will only lead to sadness and heartbreak, so why stick around? Besides, they probably don't even care about your_ issues  _anyways. You're just a nuisance to them_.

Tired of being put down by his own mind and finally finding the strength to push away the intrusive thoughts, Warren took a short moment to consider his relationships and what they all meant. He also wondered what his friends were "bringing to the table" in their relationship, as well as what he could offer in return. They had never quite discussed what, exactly, their whole relationship was, but it was six friends who (despite different levels of closeness) all cared deeply for one another.

 _Looks, humor, personality, affection, openness and honesty_  were some of the traits he thought would be important in a relationship. All his friends ranked differently, both in each category and among each other in their group.

_Cindy Barnes. A redheaded spitfire, short but curvy. She was beautiful, but not in the airbrushed look_ _of women on magazines. She wore a little bit of eyeliner, just to bring attention to the plethora of freckles that took residence right on the apples of her cheeks. She had a very short, clipped sense of humor, and her personality was very no-nonsense. She was the exact opposite when she was drunk. She was willing to share affection with those who she was very close friends with, but it was harder to get more than a side-to-side cuddle if you weren't. She was blunt with everyone, and honest when she was sharing, but she only shared what was necessary._

_Kyrn Emery was something else. Bright white-blonde hair with blue tips, she was quite the woman to_ _behold. She was stunning, whether she was dolled up with makeup and more feminine clothes or she was on one of her more fluid, androgynous days with fitted button ups and mid-calf capris, both sleeves and pants rolled up. She was a very flirty person who enjoyed partying and socializing. She was someone who had an affinity for cuddling, and alcohol only brought that out of her more. She was very open about her life, her problems, despite not being the best at giving advice in return._

_Martin Douglas was definitely the strongest of the group. Physically, that is. He was a typical jock_ _figure, except his personality was a bit more reserved. He enjoyed quiet jogs than boisterous sports. His humor was similar to Kyrn's, but there were significantly less innuendos. He was fairly touch-y, always up to cuddle, and not afraid of the random calls in the night for someone to sleep next to or make-out. He wouldn't go out of his way to share every tidbit of his life with those around him, but would gladly talk about his day or his feeling if the other person inquired first._

_Ali Tate was something close to a world wonder. She had been through so much and was still so,_ so  _strong through it all. Her trans identity did not distract or take away any of her womanhood. She was the silent, witty type. She would time out perfect quips and remarks that wound set those around her into fits of laughter while she herself just sat there, looking smug. She was willing to share her stories, willing to lower the walls she'd spent building up in her younger years, but she needed to know she would get the same in return. She needed to have someone she could vent to and who would listen in order to be there in the same way for them._

 _Jordan. Jordan Lane, truly something. A wonderful human being with an extraordinary ability to_ _console nearly any person within the friend group, and often looked to as a beacon for advice and help with a problem. Despite all of this, they themself did struggle with problems from time to time, but found it hard to ask for the help others so often ask of them. They struggle with their appearance, trying very hard to find their_ look _in the nonbinary and genderqueer community, as well as passing as a nonbinary person. Their humor was broad, and adapted to the conversation they were in. They were like much of the others in the group, more comfortable with affection as a friendly relationship grew. They were honest and open about most of their life, but there were times where some things just couldn't come out._

After considering the other five, Warren looked to himself.

 _I'm kind of chubby, I'm pale and have light hair. I'm nothing special. My humor consists solely of self-_ _deprecating jokes, I've got about as much personality as a dusty old cardboard box, and I isolate myself from everyone I care about. I'm not_ terribly _picky when it comes to physical affection, but I... I don't know if it's real, if they even care..._

His mind began spinning webs, threads of lies and fear, thoughts of uselessness and worthlessness piling on top of previous self-image and confidence issues, leaving him heavy and dejected.

Suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of inferiority, Warren felt his breath catch, hot, heavy tears welling up in his eyes. All of his friends were so wonderful, why did they choose to stick around with him?  _It doesn't make any sense_ , another voice helpfully piped up,  _that people so wonderful would hang out with you. I wonder why they do it? Maybe because they pity you, or they feel better about themselves because they're helping someone. Isn't that nice? To know that they could find any other sad person and you would be absolutely useless to them. Maybe they will find someone else, sometime soon._

"Oh! My God! Shut the fuck up!!" Warren shouted angrily, tears continuing to stream down his cheeks. "I don't care! I don't care if they  _hate_  me! If they're my friends, they'd tell me!"  _Right? They would tell me if I was upsetting them, right?_  His thoughts stuttered as his breath caught in his throat and he choked, a frustrated cry passing his lips as he outright  _sobbed_. At some point he realized he was talking angrily to himself (to the voices?) through the tears, but he was too busy trying to stop being  _angry_  and  _sad_  and  _frustrated and upset and depressed and lonely and--_

A quiet tapping caught Warren off-guard, and the thoughts and his loud cries were silenced for a moment. He counted to three, yet there was no sound.  _Why would there be? Who would be here to-_  Before the thought could run its course, the knock came again, this time a little louder. Although he was in his room, he heard a muffled voice at the door.

"Warren?"

Sniffling, Warren took a moment to compose himself, wiping his face unceremoniously on the pillowcase closest to him before moving to rifle through his clothes. Pulling a mostly-clean looking heather grey sweatshirt and some black sweatpants, he dressed himself as he went to the door.  _It can't be. It's not..._

It was.

Staring back at him when he opened the door was none other than his best friend, Jordan.

"Hey, bud. Wanna let me in?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if there's any errors as this is un-beta'd, as well as any tags you may want me to add! feel free to comment and tell me what you think!


	5. thought of all the stupid things i'd said

"Hey, bud. Wanna let me in?"

"Jordan, I--"

A hand raised to cut Warren off.

"It's fine. Please, just let me in."

The blond felt sick, not like he was going to throw up, but guilty. A heavy pressure settled in his lungs and for a moment he wondered if he was going to fall over. He managed to keep himself standing.

"Yeah. Yeah, let me just," He started to move, opening the door more as he braced himself against it.

"Thanks," Jordan entered carefully, slipping his shoes off near the door.

"Yeah." Warren closed the door, making sure to lock it behind him.

"Get any sleep?" The auburn haired person turned and looked back at Warren worriedly.

"Yeah."

"Good sleep?"

"…"

"War?" Steel grey eyes shifted to stare at a point just beyond a green sweater-vested shoulder.

"No."

"Hm," Brown eyes shone with something like mischief. "I thought that all you could say was 'yeah'," he laughed.

Warren huffed out something like a laugh in response, gaze turning to the floor in front of him. A hand settled on his shoulder, gently, worriedly.

"You eat anything yet?"

"No."

"You want to?"

"Yeah."

Jordan laughed again, and Warren felt a real smile creep up on him, just for a moment. Then it faded.

"Okay," The brunet grabbed the other's hand, pulling them both into the kitchen. "What've we got to eat, hm?" They asked to themself, letting go of Warren's hand long enough to let him sit down at the counter. They shuffled through cupboards and the fridge, taking account of all the items available. "Wow, War," They commented off-handedly with a bit of a chuckle, "Really giving me a lot to work with here."

"Sorry,"

"Warren." The movement in the kitchen stopped, leaving a few beats of silence. "Warren, please."

"I'm sorry, you, I.."

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize."

"No," Warren turned to look at Jordan, "no, I'm sorry. I.. You- You should've have to, have to  _be_  here. I'm the one who made the mistakes, I should, should…" His vision slowly turned down to his hands folded on the island counter, shaking a bit. "I should deal with this  _myself_. It's not your problem, it's  _mine,_  and  _I'm_  the one who has to pay. I, I shouldn't… dump my problems on you like this."

"Warren,  _please_ ," The voice was pleading, laced with an underlying sadness, reaching from experience, reaching from the past. "Don't… talk like that. I… I care about you a lot, okay? Please. We can… talk later, if you want. We can discuss all of this. Please don't say those things. I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you. As long as you need me, you can call me, and I'll be there. I just…" Their steam of fervently consoling their friend came to a halt, a couple moments of silence stretching out between them. "I'm gonna make some eggs and pancakes, okay? Do you feel up to helping me out?"

Warren gave a short nod. "Yeah. Okay, I'm going to put my hair up quick…" He walked slowly down the hall to his room, grabbed a hair elastic from the bedside table and situated his hair in a messy ponytail. "What do you need me to get?" He returned to a bag of flour, sugar, eggs and butter already on the counter.

"I need some pans," Jordan's voice was muffled from being inside the fridge, "and bacon, if you've got any." Their head peeked out around the refrigerator door. "Do you have milk?"

"No, probably ran out yesterday. I have half-and-half?" Warren gave a weak shrug, moving into the kitchen to grab two pans, placing them on the stove gently. He didn't turn the burners on. "Also, no bacon."

"Damn, bacon would've been nice. Oh well," Jordan dismissed it with a wave of their hand. "We'll just have to do without. You got measuring cups?"

"Top middle drawer," The blond replied as he dug in a different cabinet for baking powder. "What do we even need to make pancakes, besides what you've got?"

"Not sure, I'm just running off the top of my head."

"I see. Here," Warren turned, placing a few mixing bowls on the counter. "I've got a recipe in here somewhere… Ah, yep," He held up a yellowed index card, "Got it. Check it out, I'm going to get some water. You need anything to drink?"

"I'll take a water, too. Thanks."

A moment passed, two cups of water settled on either end of the counter as they began to work on the breakfast. At some point Jordan took over the pancakes, Warren taking the eggs.

"I hope you like fried eggs, because I can't scramble for  _shit_."

"What? You can't make  _scrambled eggs_? That's the easiest kind of eggs!"

"I can't scramble them right!" The blond huffed out a laugh, glad to have something to counter the silence that had filled the apartment the night before.  _Why did you have to be so stupid to make your friend come over?_ Speak of the damn devil.  _You could've just asked them, you know. If you were lonely. Who knows if they would've shown, though. Bet they wouldn't come, bet they think you're annoying and clingy._

"Stop it," He murmured, shaking his head weakly.  _Bet they don't care, bet they wish you would've just ki-_

"Hey," Jordan placed a hand gently on Warren's shoulder, pulling his attention from his thoughts.

"Scrambled eggs aren't going to be the only thing you can't cook if you don't flip that egg soon."

"What?" Warren's attention turned to the pan where the egg was turning dark brown, a small trail of smoke sneaking up from the edges. "Oh, shit." His friend chuckled, turning back to their own pan.

"You good?" They asked, glancing over at the blond.

"… I..'ve been better. But it's fine…" He sighed, swallowed thickly and turned a weak smile to the other. "Thanks. For.. Coming over. And everything else."

"I told you, I'm here for you if you need me, bud." Jordan returned the smile, knowing that he was trying. And he  _was_  trying. As much as he could, at least.

The cooking continued for a few short minutes, then they both found a place on the opposite side of the island and began to eat quietly. Warren took the burnt egg.

"You wanna tell me what was going on, then? Last night?" Jordan started, cautious. "You don't have to. We can talk about my speeches if you want instead."

"Yeah, I… Need a little time."

"Of course."

_How can they be so kind? So forgiving, so patient? With me, a jealous, clingy, annoying, useles-_

"Earth to Captain Warren," Jordan nudged him gently. "I can see you've gone out to space. Please, focus on eating. You need it. Focus on me." They began to relay the details of their assignment, Warren idly thinking about the projects he himself had to work on. It went on like that for a while, Jordan talking about the various homework projects they'd been assigned while Warren quietly ate his breakfast. When they both finished, Jordan reached over and took both of their dishes, continuing to speak as they put them in the sink. "I can get these later, if you'd like."

"No, it's okay. I should…" He stopped himself, trying to avoid saying something that would put himself down, or make himself seem helpless. "I should do some chores, wash laundry and dishes and stuff. Mindless activities around the house, keep myself distracted." His nod was more to make himself believe his words, but Jordan took them as they were.

"Alright. You wanna talk about last night now?"

"No." Warren replied, silvery eyes meeting golden-brown ones. "But we can." He moved to the couch, patting the spot next to him for Jordan. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, wondering where exactly this conversation may lead. "It's a long story," He looked sheepishly at his friend, an eyeroll his response. "I'm not going to start from the  _beginning_ , but I'll try to make everything make sense."

"I'm gay."

Jordan outright  _laughed_.

"Hey! That's not everything!"

"I know, but," They struggled through their laugh, thinking about  _I'm gay_ , sending them into another fit of laughter. "I'm sorry! I can't, I-"

Warren rolled his eyes, but laughed a bit with the other. "Are you done, now?"

"Yes. Sorry. You may continue."

"So,  _as I said,_  I'm gay, and my family didn't agree with that. They didn't understand, didn't accept it. I'm not the only one, I know, but it hurt. All my friends in high school were regular," He stopped, thinking of a different work to use than  _normal_  people. "Straight, cisgender people. They had hobbies that their parents liked, maybe even participated in themselves. I liked men and wanted tattoos. My family went to church regularly, prayed on Friday nights, sent me to bible study. I was afraid, when I came out. I thought they were going to send me to conversion camp, were going to kick me out.

They didn't. I think that was worse. They told me that I was young, I was confused,  _'It's just a phase'_ , y'know? They didn't think that my feelings were valid because I wasn't an adult yet. They thought I was just being like 'all the other kids'. They didn't take me seriously. I guess it made me question myself a lot, wondering if I was really the way I was, the way I  _am_. It didn't help that one of the common sermons at church was preaching what was wrong with the young generation, and how parents should teach their children better.

I felt really out of place. A lot of my friends didn't understand, some left because they weren't comfortable having a gay friend. I guess it planted the thought that, maybe I didn't deserve friends, because I'm gay. I wasn't super comfortable with my body, either, but that's a story for another time. I've been working on it, though," He smiled weakly over at Jordan, not realizing he'd locked his vision on the floor between his feet. They seemed attentive to his words, though, so he continued.

"Anyways. Uh… Right. I fell into a deep depression. I didn't think that I was worth much, especially if God didn't love me. Because, y'know, religious upbringing and all. If the Big Guy in the Sky couldn't love me or accept me, how could anyone else, right? So, it… Hurt. It really got to me. I didn't talk much for the last few years of school. My grades weren't spectacular to start, but, y'know, all this hanging around wasn't great for them either. I still graduated, though, so… That's nice. Uh.

Since I've met you guys I've gotten a little more comfortable with my identity and all, but I still feel afraid. I… I'm not sure what  _of_ , but I feel this.. Pressure. This heavy weight, always at the back of my mind. The negative view I'd taken in those last years of high school didn't want to leave, and as much as I tried, as much as I  _still_  try to get rid of it, it just.. Won't go. There's these.. Voices. They tell me I'm wrong, that I'm worthless. I'm clingy and annoying, they butt in whenever everything seems to be going okay, seems to be going right. They always tell me how I'm not good enough, no matter what I do. No matter how hard I try. And it's gotten really… I.. I don't know." A heavy sigh was pushed past downturned lips, eyes closed. The silence after was broken by a shaky, stuttered inhale; Warren turned to Jordan, blinking through bleary eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks once more.

“Do you ever just look in the mirror and realize how disappointed you are? In yourself, and everything you’ve done? Do you realize how destroying that is? How discouraging and disheartening that is?” His words were scattered with small hiccups, his words stuttering. “You just realize how pointless it all is, how worthless we all are? There’s millions of people, what’s one like me matter? It's… Defeating.”

A hand on his arm stopped his words, shining steel eyes meeting glimmering honey-brown ones, fresh tears dripping down freckled skin. “No,” Jordan said softly, trying to laugh, but it came out pained. “There’s no way I’ll ever know how you feel. But I know your situation, I know those thoughts. I understand you, at least in that sense. I’ll never fully understand, but I can say with almost complete certainty that I’ve been in your shoes,” Another laugh came this time, but it sounded real. “Or at least in a similar style.”

Both Warren and Jordan laughed now, the sound a pleasant break from the sniffles, sobs, and quiet crying noises that had filled the space between them previously. “I know that you’re in a rough spot, and I don’t know what to say to make it better,” Jordan continued, “If there even  _is_  anything I can say to make it better. But I’m here for you.”

"Thank you."

There was a minute or two of comfortable silence while they both wiped off tears, calmed breathing and collected thoughts.

"So what happened last night?"

"Can we sit outside?"

"Want some fresh air?"

"… Something like that." Warren murmured, head down guiltily as he pulled the jacket from behind him into his lap, standing and stretching slightly. He moved to the patio door and pulled it open, standing aside to let Jordan go out first. He followed, closing the door most of the way. He glanced at his friend, an apologetic look in his eyes.

"Whatever, dude." They truly were a blessing.

Without hesitation, Warren pulled the cigarettes from his coat, lighting one before returning both the box and the lighter to the pocket. He breathed in slowly, savoring the taste, the ache in his lungs.

“Still, you shouldn’t do that,” A voice chirped from beside him, and Warren sighed. “It’s not good for you.”

“Yeah,” Warren sighed, running the hand not holding a half-burned cigarette through his nearly-white blond hair. “You’re not wrong…” Silvery grey eyes met golden-brown, and another sigh passed through cracked, chapped lips. “You get on me about this a lot,” Warren looked up to Jordan again, soft auburn curls covering those shining eyes. “Did you know that?”

“Oh,” A hand reached up to push the curls back, but they fell down again as Jordan’s eyes met the ground. “I’m sorry. I just care about you a lot.”

“I know,” Warren nudged his friend gently, smiling weakly. “I appreciate it, more than you know.”

"So… Last night?"

"Right. Last night… I was just sitting, thinking about my family, going home… It's my little brother's birthday soon. I miss him. I want to go see him. I- uh, I was thinking about you, too…" He glanced over, looking at brunet. "I was thinking about all you guys, and… Why the heck you guys stick around me when all I do is hide in my apartment like this. Thinking about how… how the hell I got so lucky as to have so many people who love me and care about me." He took a small pause to draw on the cigarette, breathing in and out slowly.

"And then the voices started telling me how worthless I am, pretty typical stuff. I turned on some music, block them out or something, didn't work. Then I tried to smoke a little, y'know, take off the edge, clear my head-- get some fresh air, too. Didn't work. Couldn't think of much else, so… Made a drink. Might've been a little heavy handed…" He felt unimpressed eyes boring into the side of his head. "Okay, maybe I knew it was more than a  _little_ , but don't give me that. I blame myself enough already."

"I just care about you. Anything else?"

"Didn't stop at one, had a few more, but I don't know. Started arguing with myself, started crying." He remembered the pile of paper towels on the floor, the paper on his desk. "Made a mess. Wrote some sort of shitty goodbye letter-"

"Warren," Jordan started, and he looked over. Saddened grey eyes met panicked, worried honey ones. "You didn't-- Don't tell me you were going to-"

"Oh, no, my God," It clicked in his head;  _They think I was going to commit suicide. They think I_ _wanted, that I might_ still _want to die._  "No, no, I was going to run away or some shit. No, God. I wouldn't… I wouldn't do that."

"Okay…" They breathed out, shaken. "Okay. Good."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, I just…"

"I know. I'm…" He bit his lip, holding back another apology. "Okay."

"Anything else?"

"I, uh… No? I don't think so… I started crying again after the letter, then I went to sleep."

"Alright." Jordan rubbed their neck, seeming stiff.

"You good?"

"Yeah, just… Sore."

"From?"

"Well, I wasn't going to go  _home_  after I knew you were so drunk."

"So, what, you just stood by my door all night?"

"No, are you crazy?" Jordan chuckled, "I slept in my car."

"What?" Warren looked over, guilt rushing through him. They seemed to catch on.

"No, hey. War? Don't feel bad. It was my choice. I wasn't going to leave you."

"Still… I.. Sorry."

"No, I  _chose_  to sleep in my car. Don't blame yourself."

"Okay."

"Anyways," They dismissed the subject with their hand. "Did you listen to the messages? Read any of the texts?"

More guilt pierced Warren as he turned sharply to stare at the ground.

"Warren. It's fine. Don't worry. Do you-" Jordan cut themself off, thinking for a moment. "Do you want to listen to them together?"

"Yeah… Yeah. Sure." The cigarette had since burned out, mostly finished, but he stubbed it out in the ashtray anyways. Picking up the jacket and Jordan's empty water cup, he moved back inside, waiting by the door for the other to enter again. "Do you want some painkillers? Or a hot water bottle?"

"Why would you have one of those?" Jordan asked, curious.

"They have a use outside of alleviating period cramps, Jordan. I use it for when I'm cold, or my back hurts. Hangovers, too, but more commonly just because I'm cold."

"I'll take the painkillers, but I can get them myself."

"Alright. I'll grab my phone…"

He was worried. It would be an outright lie if he said he wasn't scared to hear what his friends left him. He didn't want them to worry, didn't want them to think he was weak.  _But you are weak, so, so weak. You're so broken, you're just bringing them down-_

"Warren? You comin', bud?"

"Yeah, coming."

 

_It'll be okay. I'll be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! i'm planning on the next chapter being the end of this story, but don't worry! i've been working on something new for this series, and i'm excited to share it with you soon!! it will vary in perspective and will touch more on those other characters mentioned here (as well as introduce some new ones)!  
> as always, let me know if there's any errors as this is un-beta'd, as well as any tags you may want me to add! feel free to comment and tell me what you think!


	6. here am i in my little bubble

_It definitely was **not**  okay._

_['Warren, I'm here.'_

_'Let me in.'_

_'Warren, please, I swear to God, please answer me.']_

Those were the messages that were staring back at him when he unlocked his phone.

_I'm not okay. This isn't-_

"Warren? Hey, buddy, c'mere…" Jordan takes him gently in their arms, wiping away his tears.  _I'm_ _crying? When did that happen?_  "It's okay, I'm here. We don't have to-"

"No, I want to. I-" He hiccupped, trying to steady his breath. "I  _need_  to. I need to hear these. See these."

"Okay. Take it easy, alright bud?" They backed up a little, but kept an arm around his shoulders, hand occasionally rubbing small circles on his back. Warren took a few deep inhales, hoping to calm himself down.  _Jordan is here. We're going to do this together._

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I'm… Let's do this."

"Okay," Jordan's arm slipped from around him, but moved to grab his hand, achoring him in place. "You sure?"

"Yes."

 

_[21 New Messages]_

_[7 Missed Calls]_

_[3 New Voicemails]_

_[14 New Messages: Jordan]_

_['Warren?'          {10:02pm}_

_'Warren, buddy, you there?'_

_'I know you're home. I can see the lights on'_

_'Warren, please'          {10:14pm}_

_'please warren i'm worried about you' {10:43pm}_

_'warren?'          {10:51pm}_

_'please tell me you're safe'          {11:12pm}_

_'you turned the lights off. is everything alright?'          {11:25pm}_

_'why did you turn the lights off'_

_'hello?'          {11:32pm}_

_'it says they're delivering but you're not answering and i'm getting worried'          {11:36pm}_

_'please tell me you're just going to sleep'          {11:41pm}_

_'warren i'm begging you please answer me'          {11:47pm}_

_'goodnight. i love you. please, please be okay. please.'          {12:09pm}]_

_[2 New Messages: Ali]_

_['warren? is everything alright? Jordan said they tried texting and calling you but you're not answering…'_

_'we love you, and we care about you. i hope you know that. be safe, please, for Jordan's sake.'          {10:24pm}]_

_[1 New Message: Marty]_

_['Is everything alright dude? Must be something crazy if Cindy's worked up about it. Let us know if you need any help. We're here for you'          {10:37pm}]_

_[4 New Messages: Cindy]_

_['Warren??'          {10:26pm}_

_'Jordan said you aren't responding to his calls or texts.'_

_'They're really worried about you…'          {10:31pm}_

_'I am too. Please call them back. Call me back, if you need to.'          {10:55pm}]_

 

The messages from Jordan alone were enough to send Warren into a fit of tears, sobs being ripped from places he didn't even  _know_  he could feel that amount of pain from.  _How awful of me to worry these people? What kind of friend ignores their friends like this? Who would love a sick monster like me?_

"War," The voice sounded broken, honeyed chestnut brown eyes filled with pain. "You're… You're not a monster."  _So I said that out loud._  "I… Can't believe you'd think of yourself that lowly… Warren, you're wonderful, and strong, kind and giving. You've got your rough edges, your issues, but we all do… We… Us, your  _friends_ , we're here to help you. We're here to make each other better…"

Warren choked on his tears, overcome by the conflicting feelings of love and self-hate. A warm hand wrapped around him, Jordan's body shaking slightly.  _Are they crying? Did you make them cry?_  He didn't realize it, but he'd begun to quietly shush and murmur to his friend, broken apologies a hushed words of affirmation, hopefully returning the sentiments that they had shared with him. They both stayed there like that for a short while, calming each other from crying and just holding one another. For a while after they'd been soothed, they stayed there in silence, arms wrapped tightly around each other's backs, listening to the other's breathing.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay."

"War-"

"Jordan," He interjected, pulling away enough to lock steel grey eyes on soft hazelnut ones. "Listen to me. I'm sorry. I've pushed myself away from you, from all of you guys. And I'm sorry about that." Finally tearing his eyes away, Warren pulled Jordan back to his chest and buried his face in the other's auburn curls. "I want to be better. I want to be there for you like you guys are for me. I want to be a positive force in your lives. I want to be as important to you as you all are to me."

Warren felt his friend sniffle, and he pulled away, their eyes meeting. There were tears welling up in Jordan's.

"No, no, don't cry, I'm sorry--"

"No," Jordan laughed, tears spilling down their cheeks. "I'm crying because you're being  _stupid_."

"Excuse me?" Warren wasn't sure how to respond.

"You're being  _dumb_  and  _emotional_ , you… Dummy." They punched weakly at their friend's arm, sniffling again. There wasn't anything he could say, so he kept his mouth shut.

There was a few more beats of silence, the quiet stretching out comfortably between them. It couldn't stay that way forever.

"You…" Jordan started, slowly, finding Warren's gaze after a while. "You want to listen to the voicemails?"

"I-" Warren swallowed heavily, a sudden pressure weighing down on his shoulders.

"We don't have to, or I can go,"

"No, please." There wasn't any thinking before the words came out of his mouth. "Don't… Don't leave me."

"Of course," Jordan took Warren's hands in their own. "I'll never leave you. Not as long as you need me."

_[3 New Voicemails]_

_[Voicemail # 13: Jordan Lane, 8 Nov. 10:16pm_

_"Hey Warren, it's Jordan. I'm calling you because you won't answer my messages, and I'm getting worried about you. I certainly hope that you're okay, despite the fact that you're drunk. Please, if you get this soon, don't drink any more. I… I'm sorry? I don't know what to say, I'm… I'm worried about you. Really worried. Please call me back as soon as you can, thanks. I'll be there soon. Bye."]_

_[Voicemail #14: Cindy Barnes, 8 Nov. 10:44pm_

_"Warren. Jordan is very worried about you. I…_ I'm _worried about you. I know it's a joke between all of us about how heavy of a drinker I am, how much of a heavyweight I am, but I know what's it's like to go through a rough patch in life. … We don't talk much. I know that. We don't talk nearly enough for me to say this, but please. Call me. I need to know you're okay. I know we have this.. rocky relationship. That doesn't mean I don't care about you. I really, really do. I… I'm rambling, but I do that when I'm stressed. Please call me back as soon as you can. This is, uh, oh, did I say this was Cindy? It's Cindy. I'm… I hope you're okay. Um… Please. Call me."]_

_[Voicemail #15: Jordan Lane, 8 Nov. 11:17pm_

_"Warren, please, oh my God, let me in. I-I know… I'm sorry that I'm not.. Not here for you all the time. I'm really scared. I'm scared, War. I need to know you're okay, I… … …Please. Please, please, I've been waiting by your door now for a while. I'm not sure how much longer I'm gonna stay out here, because it's getting really dark, and I don't like crying outside of an apartment complex enough to camp out all night. If you don't call back I'm going to sleep in my car, so I'll be right across the street. Call me. Please, God, Warren. … Call me if you- if you need anything. I'll be here. I'm here… I'm here for you. I… The phone is beeping at me, I know, I'm running out of time. I… I'm sorry. Please call me back. I want to see you. I want- I need to see you're okay. I, uh… I love you. I love you. Please, oh my God, Warren, I love you…"]_

To save Jordan the heartache of listening to the voicemails of their own broken, nervous voice, Warren listened to the messages with the phone pressed to his ear, holding tightly onto their hand for support. Despite trying to save them the trouble, he still looked over to see worry written in their eyes, tears blurring their irises.

"I'm sorry."

"You better be, you…  _Jerk_." There was a bitterness to their voice, but it wasn't sharp; there was too much care and worry in the tone. "You should call Cindy back, too."

"I will."

"Now?"

"Eventually…" Warren glanced away, worrying his lip between his teeth.

"Hey," Jordan knocked the other's arm, grabbing his attention. "Don't do this again, okay? Seriously. I love you and all, but please. Be more responsible next time." They noticed the offended look crossing Warren's face-  _how could they think I_ wanted  _to get drunk and cry all night?_ - and they grabbed his hand, wrapping it up in their own. "And call me if you're feeling down, okay? I am not afraid to stand up and leave a class claiming family emergency-- you're like my  _brother_ , okay? You are family to me."

"I-" The blond couldn't respond, an overwhelming sense of…  _relief_  flooding over him. He couldn't help it as he reached out, pulling the other back to his chest, overcome with love for his friend. "Thank you," he finally got out, voice cracking with emotion, "I love you…"

"I love you too," The response was muffled in Warren's sweatshirt, but it still made his heart swell.

A couple minutes of silence spanned out between the two, which found them with Warren stretched out on the couch, Jordan laying on top of him, their head settled on his chest.

It was quiet, and before he drifted off, Warren took a moment to think about how lucky he was.

 

_It will be okay. I'm home now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's all they wrote!  
> thank you so much for coming along on this journey with me!  
> if there's any more tags you'd like me to add or any errors as this is un-beta'd, please let me know! if you have any tips of comments you'd like to make, let me know down in the comments! i'd love to hear from you!!  
> i have pictures of the characters posted [here](https://my.w.tt/yiLZko20zP/) on wattpad, if you'd like to check them out!  
> now, onto the next ~~emotional rollercoaster~~ adventure!


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